Sixty:
Cecelia Porter
At some point during the night, we went into the garden maze. We laid down on the grass together. We didn’t have s*x. All I did was lay on his chest and listen to his breathing.
“We could still go,” he said, “all it would take is one call.”
His phone was still playing music. It was early morning, and the sun had just started to peak up over the sky. For a moment, I focused on nothing but the song playing. “And we know that we’re headstrong, and our hearts gone, and the timing’s never right…”
I pictured us doing it. Running away to America. Going on tour with Jude, forgetting our responsibilities. The thought of marrying Henry filled me with fear. Because that meant he was my future. The one I’d be tied to for the rest of my life. But
